it goes like this
by kingslayers
Summary: it goes like this: when james shows up on his doorstep in the pouring rain with a baby and heartbreak written into his bones, albus' heart stops. / albus potter learns about love, loss and learning to grow from his brother. —albus & james, a baby called letty, and navigating the world when there's no statute of limitations on feelings and your brother's ex makes your heart race.


**written for:** the houses competition

 **house:** slytherin

 **category:** theme — love and/or love lost

 **prompts:** "He looked down at the crying infant with disgust."

 **word count:** 4095

 **warnings** : one instance of minor swearing, implications of post-natal depression early on

 **notes** : i broke off part of my tooth by accident while writing this and i'm still shocked & horrified

 **disclaimer** : disclaimed.

* * *

When James shows up on his doorstep in the pouring rain with a baby and heartbreak written into his bones, Albus' heart stops.

He takes a deep breath, as if that'll make any of this less climactic, and steps aside, opening up his home to his brother and everything he brings with him.

"I didn't know where else to go," James says wildly, and Albus just inhales deeply, placing a hand to his shoulder, because what else is there to do?

He fetches a blanket, and casts a drying spell over his brother and the baby. James sinks into an armchair in the lounge, holding the baby to his chest, looking desperate and wild and hopelessly overwhelmed.

"James," Albus says quietly, "what happened?"

His brother stares into the fire for a long moment before he answers. "I was just… home," James says, swallowing. "And then there was a knock on the flat door, and a crack—she must have Disapparated," he mutters to himself, before glancing at his brother and refocusing on his story. "Anyway, I was in my room so I yelled for Lysander to go answer it, because he's been kipping on my couch for the past week while he looks for a place to stay, but he mustn't have been home, because I didn't hear any movement, so _I_ went to go check, and—" he breaks off, staring into the fire again.

"And?" Albus probes gently. He's pretty sure he knows the answer—he's pretty sure the answer is held in James' arms right this moment, in fact—but he has to ask, because James has to say it for it to be real.

James looks at Albus, his eyes impossibly wide. "Al, she was right there," he says. "Just there on my doorstep, in a basket and a blanket, with a letter tucked beside her and nobody else there. She just _left_ her there!"

Albus yearns to comfort his brother, or maybe stoke his indignation, but his mind is caught on something else James said. "She just left her there?" Albus questions. "She who?"

James wordlessly reaches into his shirt pocket and fishes out a piece of parchment, handing it to Albus, who takes it warily.

He skims it. He should read it properly, he knows, but right now, he can't focus on that—right now, all he can do is try find a name.

His heart stops again when he does.

"Laurie?" Albus asks, snapping his head up from the parchment to meet James' eyes. "As in Laurie Thomas? As in ex-dormmate to Rox and Luce, and one of their best friends? _That_ Laurie?"

He knows his voice is raised louder than it should be with a baby in the room, but he can't quite help it. He's always been the best Potter child at keeping his composure, but he hadn't expected to be dealing with _this_ when he got up this morning.

James sighs, and it's a deep, weary sigh that exhausts Albus to his bones. He can't even fathom how exhausted James must feel to have made that sound.

"It was one time," he says dully, looking at Albus, who suddenly realises that no matter what he says, James has had it tearing through his mind like razor blades since the second he found the baby. "About a year ago. Right after—" he breaks off.

Albus nods, finishing the sentence in his head. _Right after your very public break-up with Kat_.

"So she's a few months old?" Albus asks quietly, inclining his head towards the baby.

James nods. "She says in her letter that she tried to take care of her, but…" James trails off.

"It was too much," Albus says quietly, and James nods again. Albus isn't a Healer, but his best friend's sister is, and he's heard a bit about this kind of thing from Jessamine before. A sudden wave of sadness washes over him—it's something like sorrow, but sympathy too, and his heart breaks for all of them.

He sits down, suddenly weary to his bones. "What's her name?" he asks finally, looking at the baby.

"Juliet," James answers, his expression suddenly softer as he looks down at her small face.

"Juliet Potter," Albus tries out, frowning slightly.

James shakes his head. "I think it should be Juliet Thomas," he says. "Laurie brought her into the world, you know?" He looks back down at the baby as Albus watches him. "Your mum brought you in, little Letty," James whispers to her.

Albus can't explain what it is about that scene, exactly, but it makes his heart feel fit to burst.

x

James stays the night at Albus'. He looks in danger of falling asleep in the armchair, baby against his chest, when Albus guides him to his room. He intends to take his flatmate's bed—it's not like Cassius is home, nor is he likely to return tonight, given the company he left with—but he's so exhausted that he ends up falling onto the other side of the bed from James, Letty lying peacefully between them.

He goes with James to tell their parents two days later, and spends a lot of time getting to know his new niece as he does so. He can't help but marvel at this little human his brother managed to help create, even unknowingly.

In the end, it's Rose who suggests it.

"You should have a baby shower," she says from her position of lying down on the floor of Albus' parents' house. James and the baby have temporarily relocated to live with Albus' parents, mostly because James' flat is not baby-proof, but also because he's a very new parent and needs all the help he can get. Rose, Molly and Louis are the only cousins who have met Letty yet, but Albus is sure the rest of them have heard about her by now. Their family isn't known for its propensity for secret-keeping.

"Don't those usually come before the baby's born?" James asks mildly, most of his attention focused on bouncing Letty on his knee.

Rose rolls her eyes. "A baby introduction party. Whatever. A… quarter-birthday? It doesn't really matter. You should introduce her, Jamie," she says.

James frowns at her, then glances at Albus. "What do you think?"

Albus shrugs. "She's got a point," he says. "She's your family—she should probably meet the rest of them eventually."

"Plus," Rose chimes in, "frankly, it's much easier for you to control how everyone finds out and _what_ they find out if you're the one who tells them and they're all in one place." She shrugs at James' expression. "Rumours _will_ spread, Jamie, if the press don't see you out and about, and it'll only be worse if _Snitch!_ is the rag that catches you on a walk with Letty."

James makes a face.

"She has a point, James," Albus' father says, entering from the kitchen with Aunt Hermione. "Skeeter would have happily broken laws to get a scoop on me, and the writers for the _Snitch!_ are even worse."

Aunt Hermione frowns. "Not just would," she reminds Harry. "Rita _did_ break the law to get a scoop on you, and you were fourteen." She glances at James. "I don't think they'd pull any punches with you, Jamie," she says.

Rose sits up. "All the more reason to get all your loved ones to meet her before the news breaks," she says practically. "Then you've got a united front against all the gossip trash, yeah?"

"You're a punk," James says, but it's good-natured, and she responds by sticking out her tongue fondly. "But you're right," he sighs. "All right, then. Guess it's time for a garden party?"

Albus looks over to his father, who's nodding slowly. "Yeah, that'll work. We can do it here, maybe."

Rose snorts. "I love you, Uncle Harry, but if you think Grandma's going to let you have a garden party somewhere other than the Burrow, you're barking mad."

x

As per usual, Rose was correct.

Albus is in the kitchen, sipping a glass of water and taking a breather from the crowd. He'd stopped counting how many there were about an hour ago. He's distantly aware that there can't really be _that_ many—the only ones James invited were his close friends and his family—but it certainly _feels_ like a lot.

James wanders in, holding Letty, Lily trailing behind them.

"You're going to have to think about it some time," Lily's saying, and Albus' ears perk up in interest.

James sighs exasperatedly. "I _know_ , Lil, and I will, I swear. I just can't right now, all right?"

Lily's expression softens, and she stands on her tip-toes to peck James on the cheek. "All right," she says. "I only nag because I love you," she adds, and James rewards her with a grin.

"I know," he says seriously, before grinning again. "But please, go nag Fred," he says, and she grins, saluting him as she heads back out to the garden.

"What was that about?" Albus asks.

"Childcare for when I go back to work," James says. "Which—yeah, I've been thinking about it a bit, but… I don't know, I never feel like I have time to think about it properly?"

Albus nods. He understands that—James' life has been a whirlwind since the moment he found Letty on his porch, but Albus doesn't think his brother would trade any of it.

He's still trying to figure out what to say when a familiar form comes barrelling into the kitchen, and suddenly he loses the ability to breathe.

"God, she's so _small_ ," Cassie Lewis says, standing right next to James and peering down at Letty in his arms.

James laughs. "Babies are like that, Cass," he says, grinning down at her, before bumping her lightly with his hip. "When did you get here? I didn't think you'd be able to make it."

"Of course we made it," Cassie says, bumping him back. Albus is just about to question the use of 'we' when Con Everwood walks in, the third and final member of Rose's Gryffindor trio from their Hogwarts days.

"Soon as Rose said it was important, we applied for Portkeys back to the UK immediately," Con says, leaning against the counter and nodding at Albus.

"All for little ol' me?" James asks, smirking at Cassie. "I'm touched."

Cassie rolls her eyes and prods him lightly in the shoulder. Albus is fairly certain that if it wasn't for Letty, she'd have straight up socked him. "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Ego," Cassie grumbles. "Anyway, I think it was time to come back." She glances at Con, who nods.

"Yeah, love you, Cass, and travelling's great, but I miss my flat," Con says, and Cassie grins.

Albus immediately feels slightly light-headed. Con and Cassie have never been the slightest bit romantic, but he can't deny the giddy feeling of relief that flushes over him as he observes their sibling-like camaraderie.

"How've you been doing?" Cassie's asking James when Albus starts paying attention again, and he's mildly horrified to notice James inclining his head towards him.

"All right, but it's mostly because of Al. He's been a lifesaver," James says, and Cassie turns her curious eyes on Albus.

It's been a while since he's made solid, uninterrupted eye contact with Cassie Lewis, and she looks both exactly the same and so utterly different. Her hair's longer, but her black curls are as unruly as ever; she's got twice as many piercings in her ears now, but they're still sporting the same eclectic mix of cuffs and studs; and her bright eyes are just as searching and expressive as ever, except now, instead of being focused on finding the Golden Snitch, they're focused on him.

"Hey," she says, a hesitant smile playing at her lips. It's small, but it's real, and he's distinctly aware of the staccato of his heart. "Long time, no see."

Albus smiles in return. It feels crooked and unsure and he feels like he's sixteen again, instead of twenty-two, but something in her eyes warms at his smile so he keeps it up anyway.

"Been a while," he agrees. "How've you been?" he asks.

Cassie rolls her eyes. "Less dramatic than this new dad," she says, teasing James, but her expression is fond and speaks so loudly of an old love that Albus has to look away for a moment. "But good," she continues. "Con and I did some exploring, but now we're home—just in time to score some babysitting duties, right?"

James snorts. "You just want the cuddles," he accuses laughingly, and Cassie smirks.

"Damn right I do, Cap. Your kid's cute," she retorts.

"D'you want to hold her?" he asks, and her breath hitches. Albus kind of wants to die.

It's such a small sound—so minute, so _inconsequential_ to pretty much anyone—but Albus can hear whole worlds inside of it, and it makes his heart hurt.

"You sure?" Cassie asks, and it's as hesitant as that smile to Albus had been.

James nods, smiling. "Yeah. Why don't you and Con take her to the living room? I think Rose is there."

Cassie carefully takes Letty from James' arms and whispers something to the little girl that makes her giggle. Con follows her out, and Albus can hear them both cooing delightedly over Letty.

James looks at Albus.

Albus shifts under his gaze.

"What?" he finally asks, though he's pretty sure he knows exactly what James wants to talk about.

"Hmmm," James says.

There is an entire world inside of that _hmmm_. Or, perhaps more accurately, an entire story. It goes like this: Gryffindor's Captain and Gryffindor's Seeker had always been good friends, and one day, to nobody in Gryffindor's surprise, they started dating. It was the first relationship that either ever had, and it was a good one. They loved each other, and that never changed. There was never a messy break-up; the reason they'd separated in the end was the year's age difference, with one going into the rest of his life and the other still trying to prepare for hers.

It goes like this: Albus Potter had never worked out why, exactly, Cassie Lewis could always get under his skin like nobody else until it was too late.

Can you lose something you never had?

"Hmmm," James says again.

Albus waits, the moment stretching on and feeling more claustrophobic with each passing second.

"I didn't realise," James says.

Albus swallows. "I mean, I didn't want you to," he points out.

"I should have noticed," James muses, more to himself than to Albus. "My little brother's first l—"

" _Your_ girlfriend," Albus says quickly, interrupting James before he can say any more of that word. He doesn't want to hear the end of that sentence. He _can't_ hear the end of that sentence. It's something he can't bear to be true, especially not in James' mouth.

"Not anymore," James says, looking thoughtful. "Not for a long time."

Albus feels slightly sick. "I don't think there's a statute of limitations on feelings," he says, managing to be wry. _There certainly haven't been for mine_.

"I'm not in love with her anymore, Al," James says, furrowing his brow.

Albus looks at him carefully. "I'm not so sure that's true," he says measuredly.

James frowns. "She's not in love with me anymore," he tries.

Albus shrugs. He doesn't see why she wouldn't be—James is just as handsome and mischievous and inherently good-natured as he was six years ago—but he hasn't seen her for a while, so he's willing to let that point be.

"She's not in love with me either," Albus says, and it's true, which aches, but it's a good ache. It's a truthful ache.

James is quiet. Albus sighs, suddenly weary from the conversation.

"Promise me something," Albus says.

James looks up. "Sure," he says, as easily trusting and loyal as he's always been.

"If anything starts to happen with you two again, now that she's back—don't resist it," Albus says. James looks like he's about to argue, so Albus adds, "I mean it."

James looks mutinous, but he doesn't argue, at least. Albus doesn't know if he can trust him to keep that promise, but he hopes so. Albus isn't so sure he could resist it in James' place, and part of him needs James not to, just so Albus never has to find out whether or not James could have.

"C'mon," Albus says, pushing past James to head into the other room.

"He looked down at the crying infant with disgust," Louis intones as Albus walks in, and he glances to his left to see Hugo holding Letty, his expression indeed one of disgust. "The small human in his arms was an irrational being," Louis continues narrating, grinning in response to his cousin's scowl, "and he could not wait for some ebony-haired young hero to rescue him from his fate."

Hugo thrusts Letty towards Albus, who takes her, rolling his eyes at Louis as he soothes Letty.

"Narrating again?" James asks, appearing in the doorway.

"He won't _stop_ ," Hugo groans.

"He groaned, before checking his watch for the time, and getting distracted by the sheen of his monogrammed cufflinks," Louis intones, ducking the pillow Hugo threw at him.

"Monogrammed cufflinks?" Albus repeats.

"They're pretentious," Lucy says, mirroring Hugo as he pulls the finger at her.

"They're useful for work," Hugo says. "I'm pretty young to have my position—being able to afford personalised garments and accessories raises my respectability when people try take my measure."

Albus raises an eyebrow. "Pragmatic," he remarks.

"Soulless," Roxanne says, but she's grinning.

Albus sits on the couch, still holding his niece, and lets the sound of bickering and laughter wash over him. He feels at peace, he thinks, for the first time in a while. He presses a gentle kiss to Letty's head, and smiles.

x

At the end of the night, Albus finds James on one of the old swings at the back of the Burrow, holding Letty and swinging gently. Uncle Charlie had built them years ago, before Albus was born and when James was very small, and something about the sight of James sitting there with his little daughter warms Albus' heart.

His daughter. Albus has thought about Letty in many ways since meeting her, but he thinks this might be the first time he's ever thought of her explicitly as James' daughter, even though he's known she was since their first meeting.

It's an odd thought, his charming, laughing, ridiculous, loyal older brother being a father, but the more Albus thinks about it, the more it settles into his heart like a truth that can never be denied.

"She's good for you," Albus says, breaking the silence.

James smiles at him, like sunshine even though the sun has set.

"She terrifies me," James confesses, but there's still a smile playing at his lips. "What Louis said—how she's this small, irrational little thing? He's so right. She's absolutely tiny and she trusts me so much and she doesn't make any sense, but—" his smile widens, and the look on his face is so content that for a moment, Albus can't breathe because it makes his heart feel so full. "I love her. I think it was meant to be, Al, isn't that weird? It was just a drunken little night because we were upset and I didn't even know her until a few months after she was born, but she just—she fits, right here," he says, pressing a hand to his heart.

Albus can't speak for a moment, so he just sits in the swing beside James'. "I think you're right," he says, and his voice is hoarse because he's overwhelmed by how much love he feels outpouring from James, and how much love he can feel pouring out from himself towards his brother and niece.

"Break ups suck," James murmurs to Letty, and Albus feels like he's intruding, "but mine brought you to me, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

Albus thinks about this. His brother has had two major relationships in his life, and a handful of lesser ones, and seemed devastated by the end of several. Sometimes it was a quiet devastation, like the end of him and Cassie, when it had been the right choice for them at the time, but still hard for James to swallow; and sometimes it was a stormy devastation, like when he and Kat had their fight and things were said, and things were thrown, and it felt so impossible to patch back together that he fell into drink for a fortnight and into bed with Laurie Thomas for a night, and Kat had left and told nobody where to, not even her family.

The idea that any of these devastations, let alone all of these devastations, could be made worth it by someone or something blows Albus away, but looking at James and Letty, he kind of gets it.

"Do you miss her?" Albus asks suddenly.

"Who?" James asks. It's not a pretender's question; Albus is suddenly aware that maybe he's not even sure who he meant.

"Kat. Cassie. Laurie. Any of them," Albus says.

James takes a long breath. "I wouldn't trade Letty for any of them," he says carefully.

Albus is quiet for a second. "That's not what I asked," he says.

James exhales. "I know," he says quietly. "Honestly? I don't know. I mean, yes, but also…" he trails off, and looks at Albus. "People change, you know? And I don't know if you can lose someone who doesn't exist anymore."

Albus digests this. "Life is built of loving and losing," he says.

James hums, but he doesn't disagree. "They don't cancel each other out, though," he points out. "You can still love someone you've lost, and you can lose the love you share but still have love for each other."

Albus isn't sure about that, but he's had a different experience than James has. James' loves have all been reciprocated; Albus has been both the beloved and the loving, but never both at the same time.

"Promise me something," James says suddenly.

Albus is warier than his brother. "If I can," he says cautiously, not the easy and immediate response James had earlier, but then, he's not James.

James chuckles, then subsides. "Promise me the same thing. If anything starts to happen with you—with Cassie, sure, but with anyone, really—if anything starts to happen, don't resist it," James says.

Albus stares at him. He doesn't know how to explain it to James—why doesn't James _get_ that Albus isn't meant to still feel this way about the girl James loved? Why doesn't James get that he's always hated feeling this way?

"I'm always going to love Cassie," James explains. "We'll always be family, and we'll always love each other in a way that can never be lost. And I'll always have Letty, and she's another love I will never lose, because I can't fathom ever giving up on her." His eyes soften. "I want you to have that too."

"Send Kat an owl," Albus says suddenly and impulsively. James looks shocked.

"What?" he asks.

"Send Kat an owl," Albus repeats, steadier this time. "Tell her about Letty."

James frowns. "Al," he says, "I think me and Kat… I think that might have been the kind of love you can lose."

"Tell her," Al insists. "You guys have one fight, and then—"

"We fought all the time," James points out.

"Bullshit," Albus scoffs. "You argued all the time. This—this was a fight, and it was ridiculous, and the reactions were explosive and dramatic and you haven't talked in a _year_ and—no matter what comes of it, Jamie, if she replies or not, if you guys ever manage to even talk again or not, you have to try."

"Why?" James asks, and he sounds stubborn, and defiant, and so, _so_ tired, and Albus can't blame him, but he has to keep pushing anyway. For James' sake.

"Because it might be the kind of love you can lose, but that doesn't mean it's lost," Albus says steadily. "And that's something worth finding out."

James digests this, and falls silent. Albus lets him. He can tell his brother is thinking.

They sit there together in the night, two brothers under the moon, one holding the sleeping baby girl they will always love and never lose.

* * *

 **a/n.** please leave a review—i really appreciate it! please don't favourite without reviewing.


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